


Butterfly Effect

by zkdkim



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Romance, ChanSoo - Freeform, ChanSoo Week (EXO), Emotional Hurt, Fluff, Loey - Freeform, M/M, Oneshot, Romance, Sad, Sad Ending, Smut, Sweet Park Chanyeol, Twoshot, exosmut, kpop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:41:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21962272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zkdkim/pseuds/zkdkim
Summary: Synopsis: Chanyeol wants to change the past to see Kyungsoo in his perfect present.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Also on wattpad: -zkdkim

**Part 1**

Mutual expressions exchange. Crescent smiles, twinkling eyes radiates exultant and tranquil expressions. Friends and family are outside, enjoying the sunlight and the heat it radiates. They look so happy.

Happiness is what everyone wants to achieve. These paintings of happiness stem from the perception the individual has on his or her life. Happiness can mean having a luxurious life for some, a simple yet comforting lifestyle for others, and the company and love of others. Chanyeol has it all. He has the life most people envy and strive for. The things that are normalized to equal happiness doesn't make him happy. He looks at the window briefly after reading a few words.

It’s mid-spring, and he sees children and parents taking advantage of the warm yet breezy temperature. He watches as the wind gently flicks the viridescent leaves. His brown, minimally patterned curtains, an inch before touching the ground, is slightly cracked. Just enough for light to seep in and for him to have a sensory break. His eyes occasionally goes back to the people. He looks at their content faces. Their smiles look genuine yet his remains deceptive. _Why_ , he thought. His eyes swipes away and lands onto the brown burlap–rough, book in his hand. His fingers flicks through a few of its grainy smooth pages. The redolent of paper mimics the scent of several decades of imported cigars that persists to stay. It has a title engraved on the sides with a yellow tint, written in cursive. It reads _Memories of Moi._

He sulks into his brown leather couch with his legs hovering over the other. As he is just about to indulge in his literature, the doorbell rings. Its echoes breaks the silence that he is use to. He looks at the wooden door as the bell rings for the second time. He goes to open the door and finds a short woman in front of him. Her brown short hair has tips that are lightly bumped. She’s wearing a pastel blue blazer with a white shirt underneath and fitted jeans to match. She smiles at him and peaks down to the book in his hands. “Reading that book again, Yeol?” She enters before letting him utter a word.

“Noona, you can't just walk in here without calling or, at least, allowing me to give you permission to enter?” Chanyeol grumbles as he closes the door. He leans his slender but muscular body against the maroon wooden door.

“Yeol, I am your older sister. Show respect, please,” Yoora says as she takes a seat, sinking deep into the brown couch. Her eyes lands on Chanyeol’s very tall figure. His slightly round face had a set of gloomy eyes. His dark brown hair covers his forehead, but you can still see his big ears peeking out. She looks at her younger brother and sees a different person. Chanyeol’s radiance is gone. She can see the darkness in his eyes. She worries about him. He has friends, but they are really distractions. They can fill his void but not his loneliness. Chanyeol was different before things changed.

“Tea?” he offers. She smiles, nodding her head.

Chanyeol goes into the kitchen to make tea for his sister. As his deep brown eyes glances in the cabinet, he sees a half empty vanilla-flavored tea pack that he has not used in years. But it seems that he cannot get rid of it. Memories are engraved on them. Memories that will last forever.

He shakes off the thought and grabs the black tea instead. As he puts water to boil, he asks Yoora, “What brings you here?” He avoids eye contact with her. He _knows_ why she is here. The water finally got hot, and Chanyeol tries finishing up the tea. The last thing he does is add a teaspoon of white sugar and swirls it around for a few seconds. He hands the porcelain cup to his sister who looks at him with empathy. “Just checking on you.”

She checks on Chanyeol often, almost as if she lives here. She knows how much he is hurting. She misses his old self, but she also knows he will never be his old self. The old Chanyeol has been extinct, and pain is the meteor that hit him.

Chanyeol walks back to his window. He moves the curtain bit more to the side, so he can fully look outside. “Thanks,” Chanyeol says, not making eye contact and just watches their smiles, thinking how nice it is. Will there be a day where his wistful smile matches their jubilant ones?

From Yoora’s visit, there isn’t much conversation. Just the occasional check up, tapping into each other’s lives. But, Yoora taps into Chanyeol’s life more than he taps into hers. He only asks about his niece.

After Chanyeol’s sister leaves, he tries to get back to the thick book. He gets dreams and daydreams of snippets of erstwhile habits, memories of him two years ago. Some of them haunt him, sardonically smiling at him. They mock his present self, in this current world. He tries to read the book, to see if he can get through a few pages. He is ten pages in, and then he stops. “A page longer than last time..” He has been reading the same book for months, and he is still unable to get by the first few entries. He can read any book without a problem, but this book is different. He is making progress, albeit rather slowly.

Eventually, he starts working on a project that he has been focusing on for years. Aside from working as a physics professor at Seoul National University, he works on individual projects. He has written novels and journals about ongoing research and debates. Even though he expresses euphoria in the eyes of the public, he internalizes his unhappiness.

Yesterday’s seems more vibrant and optimistic than tomorrow’s. He is in a place where time is unable to stop; Chanyeol is trapped in his misery.

Chanyeol goes to his basement where he focus on his work. The gray brick walls allows him to isolate himself even more. His work shackles him; he is a prisoner to work. His fingers digs into his bright aluminum toolbox, trying to find missing screws. It's been months since his machine worked. There was something he did that was good but he cannot recreate what he did. It has been frustrating him. It has been killing him. 

He spends a few hours working on the machine, unmoved besides the occasional test runs and switching parts and screws around. As he is working, he feels a sudden sharp pain in his stomach, which diverts his attention. On cue, he ends up upstairs and sees the absence of food in his house. So, he goes out for groceries. 

He gets to the grocery store to buy some ingredients for tonight’s dinner. His surroundings are colorful and bright. He sees a variety of fruits and vegetables, which makes the store look vibrant. He strolls down the aisle, picking up one item at a time. He is still unsure what he wants, only picks up basic ingredients—scallions, garlic, just the usual.

As he continues, he gets to the section that sells pasta. He sees a box of spaghetti, a particular kind. He remembers coming here with _him_ often. He remembers this being his favorite food. Unwanted memories of the past creates an incessant pain pinching at his heart, nipping on it, almost eat it away. He picks up the box, and his throat starts itching, nearly closing. He places it back on its original spot, holding it for a bit before he completely pulls his arm away.

After spending half an hour at the grocery store, he settles on rice, chicken, and some vegetables. He already has most of his seasonings at home, just ran out a few.

Chanyeol chooses not to reminisce about the past for the remaining time he is out. He hurries with shopping and tries to get home quickly. Of course on his way back, there is traffic. He just silently goes and lets the tapping of transparent raindrops on his windshield become the music to his ears. 

In thirty minutes, he finally gets back. He tries to cook. He tries to get to work. He _tries_ to get by.

Chanyeol has been working on his machine for a few more hours. He tries a few test runs and gets nothing. He is on the verge of giving up. He feels incompetent. It’s been months since he got it to work. This may be a sign to give up, to go forward.

He knocks over his sketches and notes. His frustration is beginning to consume him. He steps back from his machine. He looks at it, thinking it is probably a mistake. It is a mistake to even think that he can figure out time travel. His eyes goes glum the longer he looks at the machinery. He sighs as he leaves his office. Possibly, tomorrow he will think more clearly. Right now, his mind craves for rest. Rest is one of the few things he hasn’t gotten. Instead, insomnia took his mind and he just lays there, thinking about the past and the present and how they will never _meet_.

The next day came, and Chanyeol is half awake. Sunlight tries to seep into Chanyeol room. His royal blue curtains blocks it, tinting the room a bit. His eyes feel heavy. His eyes involuntarily close from time to time, especially when he is in his deep thoughts. Even though he starts to feel exhaustion, he knows his day cannot pause. As much as he wishes he could, he cannot pause life. More importantly, he cannot rewind it.

He drags his heavy but slender frazzled body out of bed and begins to get ready for work. He is little late with getting ready. But it does not bother him. He figures he has to skip breakfast though. As he lethargically goes into the kitchen, he tries to get a fruit to go. He steps into it, suddenly slows down his pace. His eyes widen but just slightly. To his surprise, he sees breakfast already made for him on the wooden table. He knows a theft is not in his house. What kind of theft will make him food?

His eyes scans the table, and he sees a note. He lifts it off the table and reads it.

“Loey, eat well! You work too hard. Cheer up! See you later!!”

Chanyeol assumes his sister did this. She is trying to cheer him up, possibly. Chanyeol is aware that his sister knows he is sad. He sees her efforts. He appreciates her. He just can’t shake the sadness. It is like sadness and Chanyeol are used interchangeably.

Chanyeol smiles and tries to eat the food. He has not eaten his sister cooking in a long time. He takes a bite, and he, somehow, has not forgotten this taste.

However, it tastes similar. _It very taste similar._

After a long day at work, he is ready to catch some sleep. Today, he cancelled class, because it will be a waste of time for everyone, considering he is exhausted. Nothing is really out of the ordinary. Even if there is, Chanyeol is too tired to make a note of it. It is like any other day. For some reason, the breeze is abnormally freezing especially for this time of year. Chanyeol curls his arms around himself to amass some warmth. As Chanyeol is walking towards his black Mercedes Benz jeep, he feels a vibration on his thigh. He reaches for his phone and glances his eyes on it. It reads “Jongin”.

 _Why is he fucking calling me?_ Chanyeol thinks. Jongin hasn’t call Chanyeol in months since what happened. Chanyeol finds it strange. Chanyeol, first, ignores the call. But then came the next few calls. And because of that, he thinks his call may be important.

“Hello?” he says as he presses his cell phone onto his ears.

“Hey, Chanyeol!” Jongin says cheerfully. “What’s up?” His exuberant tone piques Chanyeol.

“Nothing. Why are you fucking calling me?” Chanyeol asks, rolling his eyes as he glances the time on his wristwatch.

“Why you so cold for? I just wanna confirm if you’re coming to my birthday party this weekend.” The fact that Jongin can possibly think Chanyeol will waste his time at his party is absurd.

“Why are you celebrating your birthday so early? It just turned May…” Chanyeol scoffs. He takes a sip from his coffee which gives him a warm sensation despite outside being cold.

“May? We’re in January…”

Chanyeol thinks Jongin is messing around. And his mannerism is a bit weird, considering they have not spoken in months. To add to that, Chanyeol actually hates him. “Stop messing around, I know we are still in May.” Chanyeol pulls out his phone away from his ear. Looking at the date on his phone, he drops his drink. It bounces on the concrete, leaving a trail of dark brown, almost black, liquid.

January eighth two thousand eighteen. One year and four months earlier…

—

Chanyeol goes back to his house. He thinks this is impossible. He can’t really be in the past, he thinks. Once he gets there, he searches for real evidence to prove that this is actually in the past. The change in temperature and how his surroundings look makes him suspicious. Despite the season, based on how everything looks, it is not much different from the future. But is he in the past? Or is he just dreaming? If he is dreaming, can he lucid dream?

Chanyeol keeps thinking. He thinks that the news would help him, but it is not as impactful, and they’re not talking about major issues at the moment. Chanyeol decides to not waste any more time and goes into his room. Possibly something is different. 

He searches for approximately ten minutes before stopping. He, then, tries to really think. He is a little timorous, so he cannot think clearly. The one thing that’s different is one person is not in the future. And that changes everything.

Chanyeol finally figures out something. It is the ring. He looks to find the ring he bought a few days before this date. If his memory is good, it is in the dresser, right next to his bed.

Chanyeol darts to his dresser and pulls out the top shelf. And there it is, the ring. It’s golden tint puts a smile on his face. He knows this ring is not in this spot in the future, his current present. This means Chanyeol is in the past. More importantly, he is still here. Kyungsoo is still here. Although he has his doubts, he is hopeful.

The machine works. The time machine works.

Chanyeol’s eyes begin to tear up. He is happy for once in a long time. The thought of seeing Kyungsoo again makes his heart swell. 

He hopes nothing goes wrong. One problem is that he has no idea when he’ll go back. The idea that he’ll go back too soon makes him a bit anxious. What if he stays here permanently?

Chanyeol studies about time traveling. But there is not much research, more importantly, reliable research. He nibbles on his finger as he thinks. He puts the ring back in the dresser and heads to his home office.

Chanyeol spends less than an hour in his office. He wants to gather more information but doesn’t want to waste too much time. He grabs his cell phone and tries calling Kyungsoo. The thought of it makes his palms feel moist. He starts walking to the kitchen, still feeling nervous. He paces back and forth, wondering what he’ll say. He can feel his throat closing as his heart rate accelerates. _I’m so nervous_ . _I can’t even call him_ , Chanyeol thinks. He tries to take steady breaths. He needs to calm down.

After slowing down his breathing, he begins to dial. He places the phone against his ear. He listens to the ringing, which makes him more nervous. After a few rings, a voice speaks. “Hello?”

Hearing his saccharine voice makes Chanyeol want to melt in place. He can feel his eyes stinging. “Yes… Kyungsoo? Is that you?” It has been a long time. He has been waiting a long time to hear his voice. He can feel cold tears streaming on his cheeks. Chanyeol tries to keep his composure.

“Yes, Loey. Why are you asking me? You called me.”

Chanyeol slightly smiles as he breaks into tears. He tries to hide that he is crying. He chews on his lower lip as his eyes pours out tears. He holds his breath and breathes for a second. “I know… I was just joking around.” He wipes his eyes as they are red and swollen.

You know that feeling when you miss someone so much that there’s a silent ache in your heart that just stays with you. If they are gone forever, you just wish to start all over. At this moment, Chanyeol’s heart doesn’t hurt from pain. It hurts from being happy.

Kyungsoo speaks, “I know you. You are lying.” There is a silent between them for a moment. Kyungsoo breaks it. As if he knows, he asks, “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying.”

There is a brief pause. Suddenly, the call ends. Chanyeol wonders why Kyungsoo end the call. Chanyeol’s finger approaches the phone screen, trying to call Kyungsoo back. But he stops when that same voice’s echoes travels through and fills the air. “Why are you lying?” Chanyeol’s spines shivers at the sound of his thick voice. His eyes slightly widens as tears drip and hits the surface.

He slowly turns his body to face a man who only appears in the dreams he sometimes confuses for nightmares. 

He looks exactly the same from Chanyeol’s last memory of him. The young man was shorter than him. His dark brown hair is cut short which completes his slightly oval shaped head. Chanyeol’s eyes meets with his round dark brown eyes. 

_Is this a dream?_ Chanyeol thinks. Whatever this is, Chanyeol does not want to wake up. He just stares at Kyungsoo in disbelief. Kyungsoo approaches him. Every step feels loud to Chanyeol, but it does not beat the sound of his heart.

Kyungsoo stops in front of Chanyeol. “What’s wrong? Why are you sad?” His thick eyebrows furrows. His hands touches Chanyeol’s shoulder and compresses it. He tries looking into his wet eyes, but Chanyeol does not want to meet his eyes. 

He knows what today is. _Today is January eighth, two thousand eighteen. Today is when I see you again. Today is also when I lose you again._

__

Chanyeol remembers when he and Kyungsoo were waiting for the music department building to open. It was a cold February morning. The glistening moonlight sky turned into the sun slowly rising by the minute, releasing polychromatic hues . The moon has completed its tour around Seoul for the night. Kyungsoo was shivering a bit, rubbing his hands together. They had to work on their presentation for their music class. Chanyeol was a music major, and Kyungsoo was undecided. Music was Chanyeol’s life at one point. He indulged in it like it was part of him. It was part of him at one point.

Finally, the building opened, and they began to work. They spend hours working on a song together. Chanyeol always encouraged Kyungsoo to major in music. His voice was soothing and graditated R&B vibes. It wasn’t overly deep but had enough depth to be satisfying. Kyungsoo hasn’t agreed, because he wants to explore everything first.

Kyungsoo always encouraged Chanyeol despite his parents disapproval. His parents believe in careers like doctors, lawyers, and researchers. It usually weighed Chanyeol down, but Kyungsoo was always there to lift his spirits up.

They were almost done. They needed a few more alterations to the notes, but overall, they felt euphoric sense of accomplishment. Kyungsoo held Chanyeol’s shoulder and compressed it. “You are amazing, Loey.

Chanyeol was the notes, and Kyungsoo was his melody.

__

Chanyeol and Kyungsoo sits and eat dinner together. Chanyeol knows how Kyungsoo dies. He knows what he needs to do to stop Kyungsoo’s death. They are eating something Kyungsoo made. Chanyeol misses eating Kyungsoo’s meals. The taste of it. He wants to savor it as much as he can. Kyungsoo looks at Chanyeol, a little confused by Chanyeol’s behavior.

“Why are you eating so slow?”

“What do you mean?” Chanyeol blinks a few times as he continues eating the ambrosial, savory spaghetti. 

“You usually stuff the food really quick and chew it all at once.” 

“I’m just happily eating, you never know when you are not going to ever eat again.”

“That’s why you have me.” Kyungsoo smiles with his heart-shaped lips and his eyes. Chanyeol feels his cheeks warm. He misses that smile.

Chanyeol has been studying time travel briefly. He has an idea of how it works based on theorists. First, anything changed in the “present past” changes the present. Once, event has passed with changes being done, it creates a new timeline and erases the old one. Second, changes in the present past creates another timeline but does not change the original timeline. It creates two alternatives or universes. Third, the events are meant to happen. Changing the outcome in one event does erase the outcome being done. These three theories are the only background Chanyeol has. He just has to find out what happens from here. His top priority at the moment is to stop Kyungsoo’s death today.

As they finish their meals, Kyungsoo is thinking about heading back to his place. “ I should start getting back home.” He looks at the darkness outside. The street lights and light beams of the cars passing by are the only source of light outside. Chanyeol tries to stop Kyungsoo. _All I have to do is stop him,_ he thinks.

“It is pretty late. Why don’t you stay here tonight?” Chanyeol suggests.

Kyungsoo looks a bit hesitant. He gnaws his lip, scratching the back of his nape. Chanyeol can sense Kyungsoo is unsure.

“...I been having sad dreams lately...They keep up all night.” Chanyeol isn’t lying. Kyungsoo’s funeral plays over and over, tormenting him. His lifeless, decomposing body in an achromatic metal casket with orange and yellow roses in his hands with a golden ring that has a few diamonds on his finger. Chanyeol’s red eyes matches perfectly with his own pale lips. His gloomy face worries Kyungsoo.

“Ok...I’ll stay.”

Chanyeol feels better that Kyungsoo agrees. However, only a little bit. In his mind, Kyungsoo is dead whether he likes or not. Kyungsoo will stay dead if he doesn’t get through this night. He has to protect him at all cost.

After dinner, Chanyeol prepares Kyungsoo’s bed as Kyungsoo takes a shower. Chanyeol gets over the anxiousness he was experiencing earlier. Maybe the idea of Kyungsoo staying over makes him less nervous. Chanyeol hums as his head presses against the achromatic wall. His mind is blank. For once, he is not thinking.

He hears the bedroom door open. He sees Kyungsoo with his towel wrapping around his waist. Kyungsoo marginally tilts his head as he dries his brown hair with a towel. As Kyungsoo’s looks at a framed picture on Chanyeol’s dresser, he smiles. It reveals a chubby little boy, wearing glasses and holding a ferret. “You were so cute?”

“‘You were’? You mean ‘are cute’,” Chanyeol retorts.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, “Whatever.” He turns around and he sees Chanyeol slightly bent forward him, making them face to face. Kyungsoo’s body brushes onto the dresser as Chanyeol’s arms traps Kyungsoo in front of him. “You were saying?” Chanyeol says.

Kyungsoo is a bit flustered. His eyes slightly widens. He clears his throat as he sees the minimal space separating him and Chanyeol. “You’re still cute…”

Chanyeol slightly smiles. He, then, studies Kyungsoo’s features. It is nice _seeing_ Kyungsoo instead of searching for him in Chanyeol’s memories. From his thick eyebrows, round eyes, to finally his plump lips. He remembers the last time has kissed Kyungsoo but almost forgets how it feels. 

Kyungsoo’s pupils dilates, corresponding with his flushed cheeks. Chanyeol sees a subtle pink tint hover over Kyungsoo’s skin. As Chanyeol lips slowly approaches Kyungsoo’s, Kyungsoo does the same. Their lips brush against each other, softly and delicately. They can feel each other’s warmth as they inhale each other’s breath. Chanyeol presses his lips deeper into Kyungsoo’s. Their lips move together, in synchronization, as if they were never apart. For Kyungsoo, it is like any other day. For Chanyeol, it feels like an eternity. It is like a soft rain after a drought. In Chanyeol’s world, there is only Kyungsoo.

Instead of sleeping in his own room, Chanyeol sleeps with Kyungsoo. Their bodies wrap each other, legs intertwine, and Chanyeol wraps his arms around Kyungsoo petite but also slightly muscular frame. In comparison to Kyungsoo, Chanyeol has a much more muscular frame.

Chanyeol can’t really sleep, but he feels more at ease. He thinks to himself. He stares at the ceiling in hopes of falling asleep. He can't help but to think or come up with predictions of what will happen. To be quite frank, he has not ever been this far.

Chanyeol takes a deep breath. He slowly close eyes but reopens them again. Sleeping feels so foreign to him now.

“I see you’re still awake.”

“Y-yea...can’t fall asleep.”

“I can see that.” Kyungsoo slightly smiles. “What is on your mind, Loey?”

“Things...everything and anything.” Chanyeol does not really know how to explain how he is feeling. He knows Kyungsoo knows him very well. Chanyeol’s face is never impenetrable to Kyungsoo. He always knows when something is wrong.

“I know that. Tell me more,” Kyungsoo deeps himself in Chanyeol’s chest. His fingers swirls on his chest, sending shivers down Chanyeol’s back. He misses his touch. But he has him now. For now, at least.

“I am just thinking...I don’t want to ever lose you,” Chanyeol says. This is the truth but Chanyeol does not go in detail about what he means.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, as he marginally lifts his head to place it on Chanyeol’s chest. Kyungsoo’s eye closes as he listens Chanyeol’s heartbeat. “What do you mean lose me?”

“These are just thoughts I have been having recently…”

“You won’t lose me. If you keep thinking like that, you will.” Kyungsoo says. He holds onto Chanyeol tighter. “But you won’t. So just sleep, okay?” Kyungsoo says softly. You can hear the fatigue in his voice.

“Okay,” Chanyeol says.

_Today was January eighth, two thousand eighteen. Today was when I lost you. Today was when I saw you again._

_Today is when I hold you in my arms, wanting to keep you forever._

_—_

Morning follows night, and it is now the next day. Chanyeol survives the first night. More importantly, Kyungsoo survives the first night.

It is winter break, so there is no school. So, professor Chanyeol is on break. He takes advantage of this and stays by Kyungsoo’s side. They are still in bed, still close to each other. Kyungsoo’s eyes are still closed shut. Chanyeol just stares at him, feeling happy and content. Chanyeol just keeps staring until Kyungsoo speaks. “Stop staring at me, your gonna make me melt. Not because your hot but because you’re staring too damn hard.”

Chanyeol jumps up with the blanket. Kyungsoo’s bare body is exposed. “Give me back the blanket. I’m cold.” Kyungsoo says, wrapping his arms around his own body. Chanyeol throws the blanket back to him. Kyungsoo is usually snippy, especially in the morning. Even though it seems like a flaw, Chanyeol loves Kyungsoo’s flaws. It reminds him that Kyungsoo is imperfect, so he is human.

Kyungsoo’s eyes remains close. Chanyeol smiles as he thinks about messing with Kyungsoo for a bit. He climbs onto the bed and hovers over Kyungsoo. “Wake up.”

“I don’t want to.”

Chanyeol chuckles at Kyungsoo’s defiance. He finds it cute. He places his fingers on Kyungsoo’s hips and starts kissing his bare skin. He lips trails down to his stomach where he sends the most wet kisses. Kyungsoo lets out a soft moan as he slightly wiggles. 

Chanyeol goes back and meets Kyungsoo’s face. He kisses Kyungsoo’s pink lips, and Kyungsoo accepts it. They surrender to their senses and interwine with each other. Face-to-face, nose-to-nose, and breath-to-breath. Their kiss is slow and soft. It is full, wholesome. It brings in comfort in ways that words never can. Chanyeols rests one hand on Kyungsoo’s neck while the other on his check. His thumb caresses Kyungsoo’s cheek as their lips touch and their breaths mingle. Kyungsoo ran his fingers down Chanyeol’s spine, pushing down. He pulls him closer enough that is no space left between them and he could feel his heartbeat against his chest.

Their lips move in synchronization as if this is their routine. Chanyeol slides back to Kyungsoo’s stomach, kissing it. Chanyeol then goes in between Kyungsoo’s legs, he kisses his inner thigh. Kyungsoo’s body twitches at Chanyeol’s touch. 

Chanyeol eyes glances up at Kyungsoo as he kisses his inner thigh, slowly trailing up to his cock. The further down Chanyeol’s lips get, the more shaken Kyungsoo becomes. Chanyeol pulls away, causing Kyungsoo to open his eyes. He reaches back to Kyungsoo’s face and kisses him again. It is not as soft as the first time. It is a little messier but not sloppy. Chanyeol slides his tongue into Kyungsoo’s mouth, and their tongues begin to dance. Chanyeol can feel Kyungsoo underneath him.

Kyungsoo holds onto Chanyeol’s boxers, slightly pushing them down, but Chanyeol’s catches Kyungsoo’s hands. He breaks the kiss and huskily says, “One second.” This frustrates Kyungsoo, but it excites him even more. As Chanyeol lightly touches Kyungsoo’s cock, he hears a knock from the room’s door. This causes Chanyeol and Kyungsoo to jump up a bit.

They look at each other, thinking of who could possibly intrude. Chanyeol looks back at the door, “W-who’s there?” There is no utterance but the same sounds. The same knocks. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo look back to each other with furrowed brows and dull eyes. They are shaken but also annoyed.

Kyungsoo gets dressed and sits on the bed. Meanwhile, Chanyeol goes to open the door. Chanyeol looks at the revealed figure. He was a bit shorter than him, has tan skin, and darker hair. Chanyeol’s eyes rolls so far back that someone can think that he got possessed.

“What the fuck, Jongin.” Chanyeol looks at him in disgust. From his eye smiles to his persona, and he hates him. Chanyeol doesn’t see Kyungsoo sinking into the mattress, wanting to disappear.

Chanyeol remembers what Jongin did to Kyungsoo. And for that, he will never forgive him for it.

—

Chanyeol wants to kick Jongin out but Kyungsoo insists that he stays. Kyungsoo is too sweet for his own good. But he also knows why he is this sweet to Jongin. It makes him feel sick and incompetent. They gather around Chanyeol’s dining area, sitting to devour the food Kyungsoo had just made.

He sees how the corners of Jongin’s lips mischievously reaches ear to ear, his enigmatic smile hides his true agenda. Chanyeol grabs the bowl of white rice, starts eating quietly as he watches Kyungsoo. His transient anger converts to admiration. The fondness of Kyungsoo’s demeanor, his mystique, draws Chanyeol like a honey bee coming across a tulip. Kyungsoo eats happily, occasionally breaking eye contact with Jongin just to look at Chanyeol’s. Chanyeol jubilant smiles reaches Kyungsoo, causing him to shly look down for a few seconds. Kyungsoo simpers as he looks back up to Chanyeol. His smile is a drop of sunshine on a cloudy day.

Jongin notices the lovey-dovey atmosphere and adds his obnoxious commentary. “I’m still here, let’s stop this cutesy stuff, it’s making me sick.” His body shivers in disgust as he takes another bite of the ambrosial meal.

Chanyeol rolls his eyes before they land on Jongin’s svelte figure. He watches Jongin looking at him, almost like he is testing Chanyeol. The sound of his rasping chewing further annoys Chanyeol. Everything about Jongin annoys Chanyeol. “You know you can leave.” He lifts his hands with all fingers pointing to the brown door. “The door is there.”

“C’mon, I was just joking.” Jongin rubs his hands together then touches Chanyeol’s arm. “No need to get so serious. Where is your sense of humor?” He adds, his honeyed voice causes to Chanyeol to scoff a bit. He knows that underneath this innocence, there’s a monster that lies beneath. Chanyeol sees it now unlike before. Then, it was too late.

“Give me my keys back since you don’t know how to use them properly,” Chanyeol demands, sipping on vanilla-flavored tea. At one point, Chanyeol trusted Jongin enough to give him a key to his place. At one point, they were best friends. He extends his hands out, waiting for Jongin to do what he says. Chanyeol’s behavior makes the tension in the air thicken. If someone walks in right now, they might choke. Jongin, flabbergasted, reaches into his pockets and hands Chanyeol the key.

Chanyeol forgets how much Kyungsoo’s death has changed him. In this current timeline, his mannerisms will stun others, possibly make them concerned. It does not matter to him however. As long as Kyungsoo is safe, nothing else matters. He grabs the key from Jongin, places it next to him.

They continue eating their meals until the bowls are clean. Jongin decides to head back to his place which gives Kyungsoo and Chanyeol time to themselves. They choose to do a fun activity outside Chanyeol’s place. Chanyeol wants to do everything he couldn’t do with Kyungsoo. It is like life amiably gives him a second chance. 

—

Ripples of water act in a domino effect, flowing until they reach the fax-gold sand. Each wave crawls gently to the shore, drenching it before returning back to its origin. Kyungsoo watches the repetitive motions whereas Chanyeol feels a tinge of trepidation. One of Chanyeol’s biggest fears is water. Not just water but the deep depths of water, the ocean. Something about humans only knowing a small fraction of what is in the ocean frightens him. He wonders what else is there that we don’t know about. The thought of it sends shivers down his spine.

However, Kyungsoo likes this, and Chanyeol never got the chance to do it because of his utmost fear. He watches Kyungsoo dipping his fingers in the freezing cerulean water, playing with it. The calm water is a mirror, Kyungsoo stares at his reflection. Chanyeol wonders where Kyungsoo’s bravery comes from. He acknowledges that many people aren’t scared of the ocean, albeit they should be according to Chanyeol. But, at least, almost everyone has one fear. Kyungsoo is part of the miniscule fraction of people who are considered “fearless”. 

The sun laminates them with its warmth. Kyungsoo moves closer to Chanyeol, causing him to tense a bit due to the shakiness of the achromatic gray boat. Kyungsoo laughs at Chanyeol’s reaction. “If you didn’t want to go, why didn’t you say so?” 

“Because...I wanted to try this.” Chanyeol is unconvincing. In fact, Kyungsoo can taste the dishonesty in his voice. Chanyeol, then, adds “...with you at least once.” That part is true. Kyungsoo’s lips curls upward. 

“You wanna know something interesting,” Kyungsoo fixes his posture, causing the boat to tilt marginally. Chanyeol’s heart skips a beat, not because of Kyungsoo but the fact that Kyungsoo is shaking the boat so much. Kyungsoo looks up at the blue sky, threaded with silver and white clouds. He traces the sky, trying to make pictures with the clouds. “I never thought I would be here today like this,” he adds.

Chanyeol holds his breath. In a different timeline, death was synonymous to Kyungsoo. “I’m glad you are here today.” The fact Kyungsoo says this, it makes Chanyeol hopeful of the future. 

“Me too.” Kyungsoo pauses. “I wish you didn’t stop pursuing music.”

Chanyeol wishes that as well. The only people who supported Chanyeol was his sister and Kyungsoo. His parents were oppositional about it. They pushed for science, business, and law. Chanyeol hates handling money and going over disputes. Science was the lesser evil. “Me too. Too bad I care way too much about what my parents think.” Chanyeol feels more comfortable on the boat, the thought of being on water escapes him.

“Do you regret it?” Kyungsoo asks.

“No.” In a way, things fell into place. His pursuit to science lead him to happiness. He has Kyungsoo in his life again. In this new timeline, he wishes to keep Kyungsoo safe. 

“How does regret last a lifetime?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Lingering regret that haunts when your eyes are open and when your eyes are closed. Regret that...”, he breaks his eyes from the sky. “...tucks you to sleep.” He picks up a bottle of water between them, sips a little out of it. “You know, regret controls emotions, makes you feel miserable, resentment towards something. How does regret get to that?”

Chanyeol sits quietly, unsure what to say. He wonders where Kyungsoo mind goes at times. He grabs a water bottle and sips just enough. “Well...you should think of it like this. Who is regretful? You or your ideal self?”

“Ideal self?”

“The ‘you’ you strived for, you set goals for. Is it you who has big dreams, or believes that dreams are salient? Do you have aspirations for your ideal self, however, do not pursue them? Or do you have goals because you’re told to? But even that doesn’t answer the severity of regret. To be quite frank, I don’t know.” Chanyeol looks at the sky where now a gray tint shadows it.

“You could have just said ‘I don’t know’,” Kyungsoo mumbles as he looks up. 

They continue watching the sky, creating pictures with the few clouds that are left as a lone animal, a bird, travels through the steel sky.

—

Later that day, they go to Kyungsoo’s simple but scrupulously neat apartment. He lives in a brown brick apartment complex that is isolated from town. Approximately ten minutes driving from town. The only thing that is near the old edifice are small shops. 

Although the six-story building is old, it is kempt and resembles the newer ones. Kyungsoo lives on the third floor, apartment number six. The crimson red walls gives the hallway more depth. As they pass through the hall, it gives off a certain scent of fruits, nasturtium, violets, and clove. Every apartment door has intense orange, yellow roses hanging on them. Kyungsoo fumbles with the lock before opening it. Once it unlocks and opens, they make themselves at home.

They walk in and take off their shoes by the door. Kyungsoo’s apartment is big for what it’s worth. Kyungsoo’s apartment is simple, nothing too fancy. There is only one room in his whole apartment that conveys how he is as a person.

They walk through his place, letting their bare feet touch the tan, glossy wooden floor. They enter Kyungsoo’s personal art studio. Oil paintings of people, sceneries made out of acrylic, sketches of the human anatomy plastered onto the beige walls. The detail in all of them is breathtaking. The way the pigments of each color bleeds onto what was once a blank canvas.

Kyungsoo is an artist, a well known artist to be exact. Although he sings so beautifully, visual art captures Kyungsoo’s attention. It is just so captivating. Kyungsoo goes by a secret name as a painter. This is to protect his private life. No one needs to see the face of the painter. They just need to feel the hidden messages that lay in the artwork itself. 

Kyungsoo goes to one of his drawers and digs his fingers in search of some paint. He grabs a blank canvas and sets everything up. He pulls Chanyeol to lay down on a white sheet. He takes off his jackets and puts it on the coat rack. 

Kyungsoo sits on a high wooden stool with his acrylic paints and blank canvas in front of him. Kyungsoo always wanted to paint Chanyeol. It is on his list. However, Chanyeol is always busy.

Chanyeol lays on the white sheet with a light blue button down shirt, the first few are undone. His hair slightly messy but enough to look good. Chanyeol stares at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo takes a look at Chanyeol’s bewildered face. “What?”

“What am I suppose to do?” Chanyeol has never done anything like this before. He shows discomfort, only because this is his first time doing this.

Kyungsoo already starts painting. He looks at Chanyeol every few seconds. “I don’t know, just be yourself.” Chanyeol doesn’t really understand what Kyungsoo really meant, but he does whatever feels comfortable. He rests his body closer to the wall, relaxed.

For ten minutes, it is just Kyungsoo painting and Chanyeol laying on the same spot. “Remember our last semester in college?” Chanyeol utters, trying not to move too much.

“Barely. I have suppressed most of college.” He strokes gently on the blank canvas with some red. “I remember some things.”

Chanyeol doesn’t react at Kyungsoo’s comment. “Remember when we wrote music together? Then, you were just experimenting with the majors and I thought music was what I was going to do.” Chanyeol eyes glances at Kyungsoo, whose eyes fixates on the canvas. He looks so cool when he is attentive. “What do you remember then?”

“Well, I thought you improved so much, considering you used to sing terribly.”

Chanyeol releases a laugh that echoes , holding his stomach. “Listen, I didn’t sing bad—“

“It wasn’t good either. No offense.” He blends the polychromatic paint, dabbing his paintbrush.

Chanyeol also remembers his first encounter with Kyungsoo. At first, Kyungsoo was intimidating, especially how he looked at people. But then, he found out that Kyungsoo was a number away from being blind. At the time, he could not solve Kyungsoo out. Sometimes, he can’t solve Kyungsoo now. Chanyeol goes back to his original position. "Since I got to know more about you, I have noticed that you are not that bad of a person. I used to think you were annoying and I wanted to push you down a flight of stairs, no offense--"

"Offense taken," Kyungsoo interrupted. He smiles, knowing Chanyeol is not being malicious. “You were annoying too, always wanted to hang out—‘Kyungsoo lets go here, let’s go there’”. Kyungsoo clicks his tongue, “My head was spinning.”

Chanyeol nods his head, remaining in the same position. He lets Kyungsoo continue. “One thing I didn’t think would happen out of all that would be you being the best thing that happened to me.”

Chanyeol perfunctorily smiles at Kyungsoo’s remark. They let the silence between them grow, but it’s not suffocating. Silence doesn’t always have to be deafening. Silence can leave a comforting feeling. Them being in their own space, enjoying each other’s company is more than enough.

Kyungsoo continues painting Chanyeol and is almost done. Chanyeol falls asleep on the white sheet. Kyungsoo doesn’t wake him up, because he didn’t need Chanyeol to stay in the same spot the whole time. By the time he wanted to let him know, Chanyeol had already fallen asleep.

He touches up the painting with some white for light and some black for depth. Overall, he is pleased. He gets up from the stool, allowing the paint to dry. He goes into the next room and grabs blankets. He covers Chanyeol with a thick black quilt. As he fixes the blanket on him, he hears knocks coming from his door.

He glances at the clock and sees it’s near eleven. He looks to see if the knocks had woken Chanyeol, but Chanyeol is still asleep. He hears the same sharp knocks. He discreetly follows the inconsistent sound. He looks into the hole on the door to see a person.

Kyungsoo gulps at the sight of the person. His nightmare in human flesh has woken up to torment him. Although Chanyeol thinks Kyungsoo is fearless, Kyungsoo has one fear. The color in his face quickly drains. The increasing force on the door immobilizes him. 

Kyungsoo knows if he ignores him, things will just get worse. He unlatches the few locks and slowly opens the door. He does not open it too wide but just enough to see the person’s face and the person can see his. “It’s late...what do you want?” his voice quavers.

“Open the door,” the person demands. He reeks of whisky and resentment; his croaky voice makes Kyungsoo numb. His tan fingers slips through the crack of the door, applying a little more force. Seeing his attempt to get inside gnaws Kyungsoo.

“But—“ The force of the door crushing Kyungsoo’s ashen face interrupts his sentence. The abrupt pain causes his face to throb. He holds his face as if it will ease the pain. The man tightly grabs Kyungsoo’s wrists, forcing him to look at him. “Why are you doing this?”

“Do you think I’ll let you go this easily? I see your happy with him but I know I made you happier.” Kyungsoo is stunned by his disturbing behavior. His voice goes dry as he tries to speak. “W-why—“ Kyungsoo whimpers in pain as he tightens his grip. Kyungsoo tightly closes his eyes, hoping he would disappear.

“You will always belong to me. It doesn’t matter who you are with now. You will always—“ His words are cut and his grasp is gone. All Kyungsoo can hear is him grunting in pain. Kyungsoo slowly opens his eyes and sees another person punching his tormentor. Kyungsoo’s guardian angel has woken up to save him once again.

Chanyeol’s knuckles has a hint of his blood, not feeling yet satisfied. Kyungsoo’s holds onto Chanyeol arms before Chanyeol throws another punch. According to Kyungsoo, killing this person is not worth it.

Chanyeol looks back at the person with a busted lip, seeing this person makes his skin crawl. He pulls his body closer to him and whispers to his ear, “I don’t ever want to see you again.” He pulls his dangling body up and speaks one more time. “If I see you near Kyungsoo again, I will kill you, Jongin,” he admonishes. He throws him out. He looks him, deeply, before shutting the door in his face, leaving him for someone to clean up. He locks the door, realizing the many locks Kyungsoo has. Was it to keep Jongin out?

He turns around and sees a shaken up Kyungsoo. His eyes are red and glossy, almost ready to cry. Chanyeol gently touches Kyungsoo which makes him flinch. Chanyeol eyebrows furrows at Kyungsoo jumpiness. He faces him completely, slowly touching his hands. “It’s okay now. I’ll protect you.” He gently hugs Kyungsoo who then starts crying.

Chanyeol stays at Kyungsoo’s place. Kyungsoo is too alert to go to sleep. Chanyeol wipes his salty tears, whispering comforting words in his ears. After a few hours, he drifts away to his imagination and darkness. Meanwhile, Chanyeol’s mind is still awake. He knows about their past but he never knew how their past bleeds deep, affecting their future. Well, it affects the past present. Returning and trying to prevent Kyungsoo’s death doesn’t mean Kyungsoo is immune from harm.

In this new timeline, Chanyeol sees himself fighting off demons. However, these demons don’t die off that easily.


	2. Part 2

**Part 2**

Jongin has a history of hagriding Kyungsoo, his body and mind. Kyungsoo says that he suppresses most of college. This is because Jongin is Kyungsoo’s ex-boyfriend. His wicked, controlling behavior always put Kyungsoo at the fence. His is known for iniquity. Kyungsoo is still shaken from two nights ago. That is the first time, in a long time, Jongin put his hands on him.

He sits on his gray linen couch, looking out the window. He swirls the metal spoon in a porcelain cup, mixing sweetness with bitterness. He is alone, wrapped around a thick patterned blanket. Chanyeol had been here yesterday, but Kyungsoo insists that he goes to work since Chanyeol is more than a professor. 

With another hand, he writes in a brown, burlap journal with soft grainy pages. It’s pretty old since it has been passed down to him from his grandparents. His grandmother saved this for him before he was born. It was like she knew he had this artistry within him. Kyungsoo, sometimes, likes to write. He likes to write about his thoughts, his troubles, and nightmares. He has been writing in it for years as an escape from reality. He drops down a few more troublesome thoughts before he closes it, leaving the yellow tinted title _Memories of Moi_ faced up.

Jongin hasn’t text or shown himself in front of Kyungsoo. Possibly, Chanyeol’s warning daunts him. Somehow, a dark aroma still follows. Or, maybe, this is Kyungsoo overthinking. He glances at the faded purple bruises on his wrist. He sulks in despair.

Why Kyungsoo allows Jongin to be around him? Because he thought he changed. But these past few weeks Jongin has been stalking and harassing him. Kyungsoo keeps this a secret from Chanyeol, because he doesn’t want him to worry. Chanyeol has enough to think about, adding more vexing ingredients to the mixture will leave off a pungent taste of sorrow.

Kyungsoo suddenly hears knocks on the door. At first, it startles him. He lets the knocks continue, hoping the person will go away. Instead, they grow louder. He clenches onto the wool blanket. He closes his eyes, wishing to disappear, trembling in his seat. The thought of Jongin returning scares him. He is seconds away from covering his ears but in between those knocks, he hears a faint voice calling his name. It is not Jongin’s, and it’s not Chanyeol’s. But he is familiar with that croaky voice.

He climbs off the chair and tiptoes to the monochromatic door. He peeks through the whole and sees a very tall, slender man. Just by looking at his eyebrows, he knows who this is. His eyebrows tend to have a mind of its own. 

Seeing that it’s safe, he unlatches the door. “Come in,” Kyungsoo says, turning his back. The man follows him while the door closes behind them. Kyungsoo locks the door again, getting every one. “There’s tea if you want some.”

“It’s okay, hyung,” he relies shyly.

Kyungsoo turns around, eyes sharp. “Okay, Sehun, what do you want? Why you acting so fucking shy? Have you not seen me before? Do you not know me?” Kyungsoo feels jittery. Kyungsoo gets this agitated when he is taut. He sits on the high gray wooden stool in kitchen, breathing begins to quicken. 

Sehun tries to soothe Kyungsoo. He knows what happened, he has an idea what it has done to Kyungsoo. “Are you okay now?” His fingers barely touches Kyungsoo, and he flinches. He gets up and walks to his living room which is not that much separated.

“No, I’m not fucking okay! He came back to ruin me. I was fine but he came back to torment me.” Kyungsoo paces back and forth. All Kyungsoo can see is the mortifying night that past. It, then, collides with things that happened in their past. In a snowball effect, it immobilizes him. Bloods pounds in his ears simultaneously as his heartbeat accelerates. His eyes senses a slight burn, his vision disfigures.

Sehun tries to calm Kyungsoo down. He sees Kyungsoo trembling; he knows why he so frantic. “Hyung, close your eyes and count to ten.” His eyes meets with his red stained ones. Kyungsoo listens.

“O-one.. .t-two… three,” he begins as he gnaws at his bottom lip. He counts and tries to think about other things, anything. At first, he sees Jongin’s piercing eyes. If looks could kill, Kyungsoo would die. He continues to count, haltingly and steadily. His rapid breathing gets slower the closer he gets to ten. “Six… seven,” his breathing is starting to regulate; his petite body begins to cool. 

Sehun walks closer to Kyungsoo just a second before he reaches to ten. Kyungsoo opens his eyes. He walks over to the window, looking at the happy customers at the local shops. “Thank you, Sehun.”

“It’s fine… I get worried about you,” he sits on one of the gray couches. He pops a cigarette in his mouth, slides out a lighter and flicks it. Kyungsoo turns and watches the orange flame flicker, something so small yet destructive. 

“No smoking in my place, rule number one,” Kyungsoo says.

“Yeah, yeah rule number one,” his raspy voice travels to Kyungsoo’s ears.

“You know smoking is bad for you.” Kyungsoo plays with his achromatic curtains. Most of Kyungsoo’s apartment is filled with grays, blacks, a little white here and there. He turns and sits on the couch parallel to Sehun.

“I fucking know that.” He digs deeper into the couch, legs crossed.

“So, you also know you shorten your life by ten to twenty years,” Kyungsoo derisively adds, taking another sip out of his cup. The vanilla flavor swirls on his tongue. People usually associate vanilla as being boring. To Kyungsoo, vanilla just means it’ll invite any flavor in.

“One, you’re fucking rude. Two, did you tell Chanyeol?” Sehun changes the subject. 

“No, not yet… I will wait a little longer.” He rubs his eyes as they begin to burn. Not because he wants to cry but because he is a little lethargic. He has not slept properly in days. It is as if he just closed his eyes, just to close them, but he isn’t immune to the sounds and the touch of this world. 

“I don’t know. It seems unsafe. Especially how the police has not done anything.” Sehun is right. Kyungsoo has reported Jongin a few times, but there isn’t enough proof, whatever that meant. Kyngsoo still doesn’t tell Chanyeol yet. Albeit, the police is useless.

“He’ll know soon. I’ll wait until he has less on his hands.”

“Sooner is better than later.” Silence takes it turn to talk. And they just sit there, near the window where light barely seeps in.

__

Kyungsoo decides to paint to keep his mind sane. He mixes vibrant colors together and splashes them on the white canvas. Art really intrigues Kyungsoo. May sound cliche but there’s something about making something your own fascinates him. The way the colors bleed into each other. The fact it starts white—empty and turns into something makes him want to paint everyday.

He layers the polychromatic paints, adding black for depth and a white for light—a little white though. “If I could paint my life, I’d use lots of blues and whites,” he says, dabbing his paintbrush in murky water.

He looks over at the painting of Chanyeol. Its pink hues on the edges bleeds into more colors, eventually capturing all the colors that makes up Chanyeol. Kyungsoo faintly smiles. He eyes trails back to his current work. “My life is full of gray it seems.”

—

He goes to Chanyeol’s place. He lets him know of course. Chanyeol has a habit of going to Kyungsoo’s place unannounced. And considering recent events, he tells him, so he doesn’t go into panic.

He lits the fireplace, letting fumes fill the melancholic atmosphere with a scent of chestnut. He watches the flames curl and sway, eating away the wood. He lays on Chanyeol’s brown leather couch, snugged with a thick blanket. He yawns, rocking his head back and forth. He tries his best to stay awake. He has been up since five in the morning and time is approaching to five in the evening.

The sound of keys jingling and a door opening prevents him from being taken by sleep. He sits up and watches the man walk in. The corners of Kyungsoo’s lips move upward at the sight of someone with big ears, big eyes, and a big heart. “Welcome home, Loey.”

Chanyeol smiles warmly as he tosses his keys into the black block-shaped high table near the door. He immediately sits with Kyungsoo, near the fireplace. “Did you eat?” He fixes the blanket that’s wrapping Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo looks a bit puzzled, because he did eat. But it wasn’t really a meal. “I had tea and crackers.”

Chanyeol breaks his neck, maybe a little too quick. You can hear the slight crack in his neck. He brushes his hair back with his fingers just for it to return to the same spot. “That is not real food. You need to eat, Kyungsoo. Why don’t I make you something?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen at Chanyeol’s offer. He grimaces at the idea. “You cook? Are you sure? I am fine with just cooking for the both of us,” he offers, slowly trying to get up. “At least if I make it it will be good,” Kyungsoo mutters, but Chanyeol still manages to hear it.

“It’s fine. You will be surprised that my inner Gordon Ramsay will have you begging for seconds.” Chanyeol’s diction worries Kyungsoo more. He extends his arm just to see Chanyeol walking away from his grasp. He curls his fingers back, dropping his hands onto his lap. In a way, it almost hurts.

Kyungsoo falls asleep, finally, after time ate away at his brain. His nostrils takes in an abrupt, strong ambrosial scent of spices. He leisurely opens his eyes, and his blurry vision depicts a figure walking back and forth from the kitchen to the dining area. He sluggishly lifts his body. “What are you doing?”

Chanyeol stops his traces. He turns to Kyungsoo with a navy apron on and a wide smile. “Wow, perfect timing you have, it is dinner time,” he says with enthusiasm. He finishes putting the final touches. As he places water on the table, Kyungsoo walks in.

To his surprise, it doesn’t look bad. Kyungsoo sits at the table with Chanyeol sitting by him. He has no expectations. Kyungsoo just looks at it, waiting for Chanyeol to eat first. But Chanyeol notices. He knows that Kyungsoo will not eat unless Chanyeol eats first, only because Kyungsoo did not make it.

“Eat it, I promise it is not bad. I swear on my life,” Chanyeol insists.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to die.”

“Trust me.”

Kyungsoo lifts up his spoon and scoops the savory beef, placing it on plain white rice. He hesitantly takes a bite. His eyes lights up at the taste. He looks at Chanyeol who is happily eating. He wonders where did he learn how to cook like this. It is not perfect but is better than usual. Chanyeol’s cooking improves in the future, because he found cooking for himself more often.

“Good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is. Where did you learn to cook this? Just last week you added too much salt and too much water in the rice. But here your rice is almost perfect.”

Chanyeol gulps done a glass of water. “Like I said, my inner Gordon Ramsay—“

“Chanyeol, please.”

Chanyeol doesn’t mind Kyungsoo’s commentary. Having Kyungsoo eating something from him the first time tickles his stomach. He never got a chance to cook for him in the past. Now that he is alive, he wants to try.

—

After dinner, they wrap each other’s body under wool sheets in the living room by the fireplace. The heat releases warmth, being their tiny sunlight of the night. It emits a shadow of their bodies on the olive green rug. They watch the flames dance together to their own silence.

“Tomorrow is your birthday,” Chanyeol starts. He pulls Kyungsoo in closer, his lips glides on the back of Kyungsoo neck. He gets closer to his ear, “What do you want to do?”

Kyungsoo is unsure. It’s going to be his twenty-fifth birthday. To him, it is like any other birthday. He scratches the side of his jaw. The tips of his fingers travel to his temples then stops at his hair. “I don’t know.”

“We can do anything you’d like,” he captures Kyungsoo’s hand; their fingers interweaves exquisitely. In this new timeline, Kyungsoo reaches his twenty-fifth birthday instead of tragically dying nights before. 

The way he died, Chanyeol remembers clearly. On an icy winter night, time was minutes away from approaching the very next day. He remembers how they ate that night, had sex, and Kyungsoo leaving. He tried to convince him to stay, but it looks like he should have persuaded him more. If he was eloquent enough, possibly, he could have seen him as he sees him now.

He received a call from Kyungsoo’s mother. He didn’t know that call would deafening to his ears. For the first time in his life, sound was repugnant in his ears. He remembers falling back on this empty frigid mattress and feeling completely dissociated when he heard the dreadful news.

News broke out everywhere. “The discreet painter ‘Artist K’, referred by family and friends as Do Kyungsoo, has passed away”, Chanyeol’s sister was doing the reporting on national news. His sister’s eyes glistened as she was reading the reporting. It was like she was, even from a television screen, talking to his soul. “On Monday, January eighth, two-thousand eighteen… the cause of death... was a car accident.” 

No one knew why Kyungsoo mashed his car into the brick wall. No one knew why his whole body was mangled, but his hands remain flawless and unharmed, not even a scratch.

The Grim Reaper lingered to sardonically remind him of the tragedy, poking into his dreams. He hummed melodies in his ears that not even Chanyeol could decipher. 

But that timeline is gone, Kyungsoo is alive , and the memories dies as just memories.

“Okay, I’ll let you know tomorrow.” The fireplace remains as their little light as darkness covers them and tucks them to bed.

—

January twelfth, two thousand eighteen is here. Kyungsoo lives to be twenty five. He gets up and finds him in Chanyeol’s room on his bed. But Chanyeol is nowhere to be found. He holds onto the sapphire wool blanket, trying to trap as much warmth as possible. He misses Chanyeol’s warmth and rather be consumed by it than an empty blanket.

His eyes leisurely opens, barely sees anything. His vision is blurry, only seeing shapes. As his vision gradually gets clearer, he notices a yellow sticky note on the mirror that is part of Chanyeol's bedroom set. His eyes fixates on the writing. With black gel ink, it reads, “Good morning, Kyungsoo. There’s breakfast ready for you. — Loey”.

He grimaces at Chanyeol’s corniness. “Chanyeol, the hopeless romantic.” But, still, his brown eyes lights up as the corners of his mouth turns.

He goes to the kitchen and smells something ambrosial. He finds spicy seafood salad, bean sprout rice, spicy stewed fish, and few other dishes. They are commonly made, but, to Kyungsoo, they hold some kind of specialty. 

He finds the same yellow sticky notes with the same black gel ink on each dish. They read:

“I woke up early to make these. I hope they don’t taste bad. I think my cooking improve substantially. Please eat all of it.” 

“Remember when you first tried my cooking. It was terrible back then. You didn’t even lie and say it was good. I can trust your honesty, at least.” “Honesty” makes Kyungsoo choke a little. He continues reading each note, feeling Chanyeol’s love. He looks back at the second note he read. “Can you really trust me?” he mutters. 

__

Just as Kyungsoo is about to finish his last bite, a shadow appears in the corner of his eye. He turns to see big eyes that goes well with big ears. “So you ate all of it,” he grins widely. 

“I had no choice,” Kyungsoo remarks, finally consuming the last morsel. He places utensils into the bowl.

“Why do you always got to be like this?” Chanyeol whines in a jokingly manner. He starts cleaning up the table. He grabs the bowls and places them in the sink.

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo says, finishing his meal with a sip of vanilla-flavored tea. Chanyeol’s lips curl in a soft smile, making his dimple appear on his cheek.

“Have you decided what you wanted to do today?” 

“I don’t know.” He places his hand beneath his chin. To him, it is any other day. For Chanyeol, it is different. Kyungsoo has seen Chanyeol almost everyday. Chanyeol has been separated from Kyungsoo for over a year. Their minds are in different timelines, different spaces.

“What do you mean? People say you only turn twenty-one once but really you turn twenty-five once—okay, I know you turn every age once, but my point is,” he wraps his arm around Kyungsoo’s neck. “You have to do something.”

Kyungsoo thinks. He pouts his heart shaped lips as he mixes his tea. “I may want to do something.”

“Which is?”

“We have to go back to my place.”

“Okay.”

Chanyeol goes to wash the dishes, while Kyungsoo goes deep in his dark thoughts. He taps his fingers on the dark wooden table and hums to the beat. Silence, for once, separates them for a bit. Perhaps, because Kyungsoo is deep in his own mind. His train of thoughts are broken by the sound of a deep voice, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” his voice trails into the air, almost like it absorbed his voice.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve noticed you love taking trips down memory lane. Always tapping into the past,” Kyungsoo says, unaware that Chanyeol knows a life without him. “Remember when we would do music together. The sounds, the melodies, the thought, the time, the effort—you are really gifted. I say this already, but I really wish you kept going. Perhaps, I just love a ‘Loey Original’.”

“A Loey original?”

“Yeah—you know, you just have this special touch,” he says, playing with his fingers. He tilts his head marginally as his fingers combs the side of his brown hair. Kyungsoo closes his eyes and starts sings, “The fog in the heart, The secret in the eyes. The passion that didn’t have a chance to light.” Albeit those are Chanyeol’s premature lyrics, Kyungsoo’s euphonious voice makes it sound exquisite.

Chanyeol hums along to the sound of his voice. He is swept by it and floats for second, unable to care about anything else.

They take pictures of their morning and write behind them with black gel ink. Later, they will go to his place, Kyungsoo will tell Chanyeol, and Chanyeol will surprise Kyungsoo. They’ll fall in love with each other again, and it will be perfect. But, perfect is an overstatement. Because every second, walls have ears. However, even at the end of their bittersweet story, Chanyeol is still the notes and Kyungsoo is still his melody.

—

Kyungsoo sits on his tall wooden stool in front of blank canvas, with paints in his hands, a paintbrush, a cup of clear water. Chanyeol sits parallel from him, on the same white sheet, naked. He has another white cloth, just barely covering his lower body.

“I can’t believe you want to paint me again.”

“True art comes from somewhere says fucking no one,” Kyungsoo utters while being focused, so focused that people may mistaken him for being angry.

“At least, I can be your true art,” Chanyeol starts to get carried away. He looks outside and see the tiny droplets of water falling from the sapphire sky. “It’s funny how each thing in this world, possibly in this universe, needs something in order to survive. Like, plants need this rain. Although, it comes whenever feels like it. Without the rain, it will get dry and brittle. Almost better off dead.” He glances over at Kyungsoo who is so concentrated doesn’t even notice. Kyungsoo is so fixated on Chanyeol’s appearance than his words, because, to him, Chanyeol is the most beautiful person he has ever laid eyes on.

“Kyungsoo…”

“Yes?”

“What dreams do you have? Not like dreams that you sleep or escape to. But dreams you want to be part of your reality.”

“Dreams? I don’t really believe in dreams anymore. I believe reality and things existing. It’s better to say ‘This will happen’ than ‘I wish this will happen. Wishing is meaningless if it doesn't come true,” he mixes some blues and whites together, and splashes them onto the canvas.

“I guess, I’m still a dreamer,” he mutters.

“It’s okay to be a dreamer though. It’s good to be optimistic and hopeful that something will happen, especially if you’re unsure of it happening.”

Chanyeol listens to him as he continues looking through the windowpane. The winter sky is a widow’s sky. He watches as it weeps and has a gray filter over it. The clouds slowly diminishes as the sky darkens.

A few hours pass, Kyungsoo finishes. Chanyeol gets excited to see the masterpiece, but Kyungsoo slaps his hands away. “You can see it yet.”

“Come on, I didn’t even get to see the other one,” he whines, he extends his hands out to the canvas, the completed painting, but Kyungsoo pulls it further from his grasp.

“Good things come to those who wait.”

“I suppose.”

They stay in the art studio, a room filled with different colors, mediums, and emotions. They listen to the taps of the light rain. Kyungsoo’s head buries into Chanyeol's neck, resting on his svelte shoulders. Their hands, fingers, legs intertwine with one another, locking them in place. 

Kyungsoo still thinks back to the note Chanyeol wrote, that he appreciate his _honesty_. He thinks he should tell Chanyeol about Jongin. He knows Chanyeol might lash out and do something, but that’s what he is scared of. And he is scared that Chanyeol might end up being hurt. “Chan—” Chanyeol abruptly lets go of his hands. He gets in front him, locking his dark orbs into his. “yeol?”

“Once, I told you I’ve been having dreams that will keep me up all night. Those dreams..dark and empty dreams that make me want to disassociate myself from the world. Those dreams, they keep me up but also tuck me in.” He gently holds his moist palms, feeling a little shock inside him. “Those dreams were dreams of you not being in my life. In a way, I know a timeline without you, and it sucks..”

Kyungsoo’s throat becomes a little dry. He feels his stomach doing backflips. A slight burning sensation forms in his eyes as he stares at Chanyeol. Chanyeol’s sudden speech befuddles him, forgetting to mention what he wanted to say.

Chanyeol reaches into his pocket and pulls out a golden ring with small white diamonds. Kyungsoo’s eyes widen, unable to fully register the moment. But, at the same time, he doesn’t want this moment to end. Chanyeol continues, “I’m a hopeless dreamer, but I want to be able to dream with you.”

Kyungsoo, immobilized, does not utter a sound. He just watches Chanyeol and gets lost in his words.

“Will you marry me?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes glisten, replaying the melodic words in his head. “Are you sure you want to marry me? I can be a handful. And I have demons too.”

Chanyeol laces his fingers with his, “I’d kill a thousand demons just to be with you.” Chanyeol leans in, and Kyungsoo does the same.

Kyungsoo falls into Chanyeol’s arms, falling in love with him once again. Their lips clash and melts together like a mountain snow beneath a summer sun. Chanyeol’s kiss is softer than a feather but yet feels strong. Kyungsoo falls deeper into him. Their lips part for a moment, and Kyungsoo says, “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

They fall back into each other, indulge in each other. They kiss grows messier. Chanyeol slightly lifts Kyungsoo and places him on the ground, hovering over him. The white sheet that is covering him drapes more, barely holding on. His lips travels down Kyungsoo’s neck, causing him to coo. Simultaneously, his fingers undoes his pants, slides into them and seeps into his briefs. Chanyeol’s fingers reaches for his cock, fisting him until he is so hard that it slightly hurts. Kyungsoo trembles, gnawing at his bottom lip.

Chanyeol’s wet kisses starts traveling down, licking his chest, his abdomen, and, finally, wrapping his warm lips around Kyungsoo's erection. He sucks the tip, giving Kyungsoo a little tease. His lips slides down his shaft until he consumes all of him. He pushes his head back and forth, inhaling all of Kyungsoo. 

Kyungsoo eyes rolls and his head tilts back simultaneously. His back arches a little bit, feeling electricity follow through his body. Kyungsoo moans, feeling a burst a pleasure bottling inside him. His fingers finds their way in Chanyeol’s hair. Before he was about to cum, Chanyeol stops.

Chanyeol travels back up and captures his lips. Their kiss grows even messier, but it doesn’t ever get sloppy. Their tongues swirl, sharing each other’s breath but at the same time being breathless. Chanyeol cups Kyungsoo’s face, slightly holding onto his neck. Kyungsoo clenches on his back, never wanting to let go. Chanyeol nibbles on Kyungsoo’s ear, slides down to his neck and sucks it with more tension.

Chanyeol strokes his cock while sending kisses all over his body. He falls back, parallel to Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo watches his butt land on the ground, and the white cloth completely falls to the side. He looks at Chanyeol and reads his lips while listening to the sound it produces. “Suck it.”

Kyungsoo climbs over him and wraps his heart shaped lips tightly, sliding down his shaft. Chanyeol grunts as Kyungsoo slides up and down, twirling his tongue and head. Chanyeol’s mind pulverizes as he feels the grip of his mouth stroking his cock. His soft lips goes down to his balls and glides right back up, repeating the same motions as before.

The minute Chanyeol feels like he is going to cum, he pulls away and flips their bodies. They kiss so deeply that they melt into each other like polychromatic colors on a blank canvas. 

Kyungsoo hunches over when Chanyeol grabs his ass and his neck, slightly pinning him down. Chanyeol coats his fingers with spit, knowing it’s no use to leave this precious moment for lube. He slides one finger, making Kyungsoo wince at pain. He gives Kyungsoo a minute to adjust to the feeling before he continues. Then, he enters the second finger which sends flames, flickering until it slowly dies leaving it warm as Chanyeol sends kisses up his spine. He adds one more finger as his lips brushes against Kyungsoo’s shoulder. Chanyeol switches his fingers with his thick cock, thrusting his hips forward causing him yelp. He kisses his shoulder as get thrusts deeper into him. Burst of pleasure and pain mix together, but pleasure overpowers it. “Chanyeol,” faint utters escapes his mouth. In between these sensual thrusts and glistened bodies, grunts, moans, and names fill the blistering air. 

To them, nothing else matters, nothing else exists. It’s just them.

Chanyeol thrusts harder, faster, and deeper causing Kyungsoo to moan in bursts. Their breath quickens, their bodies twitches. Kyungsoo release warm white blotches on his stomach, dripping onto the floor. Chanyeol cums inside of him, not leaving a single drop. They exhale, and they collide. 

They lay next to each other, shoulder to shoulder. They pant, staring at the achromatic ceiling.

“The demons you talked about...elaborate,” Chanyeol says, finally being to breathe.

Kyungsoo has to tell him. He has to bring out these words, that Jongin has been stalking Kyungsoo. But, yet, he doesn’t have the courage to. Instead, he says, “We have forever to find that out.” 

Chanyeol looks at Kyungsoo, feeling genuinely happy. He never got to propose to Kyungsoo. In another timeline, the ring that’s on Kyungsoo’s finger is buried with him. However, Kyungsoo presence didn’t die with him. It always lightly touch Chanyeol wherever he went.

“Loey,” Kyungsoo utters, “Let’s take a trip to Japan.”

“Japan? Why?”

“I want to get away and spontaneously travel to places where I don’t know what will happen. I just want to get away. Far far away...with you.”

“When do you want to go?”

“Before dawn.”

They continue looking at ceiling. It stays there, untouched, like a blank canvas. They enjoy their silence as everything eventually fades to black.

—

The clouds hangs like frayed achromatic curtains, framing an inky indigo sky, lit by bright, round faced sphere. The wind coos as it brushes the leaves with its icy breath.

After getting some rest, Chanyeol went back to his place to pack some things. At the same time, Kyungsoo stays in his place to pack some of his things. They want as much rest and save the most time as possible. They agreed that they would pack separately and Chanyeol will see Kyungsoo in an hour.

Kyungsoo manages to finish a little earlier, with about fifteen minutes to spare. Kyungsoo, finally, feels at peace. His puzzle was solved on his birthday. Chanyeol was right. You only turn twenty-five once. Kyungsoo wants to enjoy his twenty-fifth. He sits in his living room, looking at the dark sky, eventually staring into his reflection. He doesn’t see really clearly, he sees himself but everything else look like shapes. He sits patiently. He thinks that everything is over. In his twenty-fifth, he will cast away all his demons, not empowering them. 

He sits comfortably on his gray couch. He has everything he needs— his luggage, his backpack, his warm jacket. He plays with the curtains as he let time pass.

Suddenly, he hears the sound of keys, locks unlatching, and the soft creak of the door. He figures it’s Chanyeol, because he only trusts Chanyeol with it. Kyungsoo smiles ready to leave with Chanyeol. He turns around, ecstatic. His eyes twinkles. Once his eyes lands on the figure, his jubilant smile transform into the corners of his lips going downward with terrified eyes to match.

He runs to get his phone, but the man slaps it to the ground. Kyungsoo steps backwards, creating more distance between them. He watches him as he whips sharp knife. Kyungsoo’s widens at its sharpness.

“Please,” Kyungsoo begs, trembling as the door closes behind him. 

Each step he takes deafens Kyungsoo. He feels small and defenseless at his demon.

“You think I really enjoyed listening to that shit.”

“Jo—“ Kyungsoo feels the palm of his hand strike his face. It leaves a burning sensation. He is shocked and scared. “Jongin, why?”

Each time Kyungsoo utters a word, Jongin gives pain. 

Grabbing Kyungsoo, he throws him onto the cold wooden floor. Drawing back his foot, Jongin slams it into his stomach, piercing through it and touching his rib cage. Kyungsoo gasps in shock and pain, curling his fingers into fists, shaking uncontrollably. Trepidation flows through him. Jongin kicks him again, and again.

Kyungsoo’s mind refuses to accept that this is his how his story ends. Time seems to hastily tick while the rest of him slows down. He tries grabbing Jongin;s foot but unsuccessfully does it. Jongin's foot aims for his face. Kyungsoo’s face throbs. His nose begins to bleed as he cries. Kyungsoo stays down, feeling defeated. He just wants to be able to run from his troubles without them finding him. However, one found him before he had the chance to run.

He feels his body getting picked up off the ground. His arms dangles like a lifeless puppet from its master’s strings. He doesn’t abide Jongin to take him. His mind tells him to jump off and run, but his body can barely move.

— 

Chanyeol finally wraps things up. He carries his carry-on and personal bag and tosses it in the back seat of his black Mercedes Benz. He didn't find the spare keys to Kyungsoo's place. He thinks he misplaced them. But, he is sure Kyungsoo will open the door for him, so he didn't stress it. He hops in and starts the car with his frosted finger tips. He waits a little bit for the car to warm up. While he waits, he ponders. He hasn’t forgotten that he time traveled here. It still lingers and taps into his head like a deadly glacial reminder.

“Could I have just erased the alternative timeline?” he rubs his hands before slipping them between his legs. He wants to give into the idea that everything is solved, but he is still at the edge of time, going through a series of ‘what-ifs’.

He grabs onto matte, flat textured leather steering wheel and puts the car in drive. He, then, follows where something bleak prevails.

He arrives about five minutes before time. He calls Kyungsoo, but his phone goes straight to voicemail. Chanyeol calls again but same thing. He finds it strange how Kyungsoo doesn’t answer, because he usually, if not always, answers right sway.

Chanyeol gets out his car and searches for him. He gets into the elevator and presses the button with the number three slightly above it. The crimson walls matches the walls in the halls but with minimalistic drawings of flowers in the middle of each side. Before the golden metallic doors close, another person enters. 

As the doors close, they make eye contact, exchange small smiles, and just that is pretty much it.

The silence makes the elevator ride longing as it deafens Chanyeol. Propitiously, the voice of the stranger travels through this tiny space. “I have seen you around here a lot..”

“Really? Me?” Chanyeol points to himself, eyes widened, marginally facing the stranger.

The stranger nods. His chestnut brown fluffy hair looks like it was groomed diligently, having a rippling quality. His eyes had the same startling limpidity as a mountain stream and the lineaments of his face exquisitely complements each other. “Yes, I’ve noticed you’ve come here often, very happy always. Do you live here?”

“No, I’m here to see my...fiancé.” Chanyeol feels a warm sensation inside. Being able to utter that Kyungsoo is his fiancé sends a jubilant smile on his face. He has finally obtained happiness.

“Oh my, congratulations.” He reaches out for Chanyeol’s hands, and Chanyeol gladly accepts it. And just like that, the elevator opens and they’re on the third floor.

Chanyeol releases, and utters as he steps out, “What’s your name?”

“Kim Junmyeon.”

The doors begin to close, and when there’s only a small opening left, Junmyeon can only hear, “My name is Park Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol sees the doors close, unsure if the man heard him. He brushes it off and turns heels to apartment number six. He approaches it, feeling a cold void as he steps gets closer. His eyes glances on each door before reaching six. When Chanyeol reaches to number six, his breathing stops for a moment, and his heart sinks. He sees the apartment door open.

He peeks his head inside to see tall wooden stools being flung over, and the curtains being torn off from the metal bar the carried its support. He dials Kyungsoo’s number one more time and waits for a response. He, abruptly, hears the sound of a familiar tune not to far from where he stood. He follows it, feeling an overwhelming sensation of dread. He finds Kyungsoo’s phone but not Kyungsoo. “Kyungsoo?” Nothing. He yells his name a little louder and still nothing.

He fumbles his hands through his hair angrily. As his scatters around, he finds little droplets of blood. He eyes it and, then, his head follows it has it makes a faint trail.

His instinct causes him to hastily find where it leads to. He follows as it leads to the hall, and eventually to the stairs that lead to the back door. The faint droplets fades more the closer Chanyeol approaches the door that leads to the staircase. He opens to black door, and finds a few more droplets down a few steps, but it eventually stops.

Chanyeol bolts down the flight of stairs, and breaks through the back door. His mind is filled with nothing except Kyungsoo. He can’t lose him again. His eyes scatters the area to see if he sees anything.

Luckily, he sees the shadows of someone dragging something that resembles a person. Chanyeol runs, sprints, to that shadow. The closer he gets the clearer the image becomes. He sees a familiar back, a familiar set of svelte shoulders. He sees the person carrying someone who happens to wear a very familiar ring.

Chanyeol sprints so hard, he can feel his muscle pulverizing, but it didn’t matter to him. He manages to grab Kyungsoo from the person grasp, while kicking the person in the crotch. 

He moves to the nearest corner, finally squatting down. He gently places Kyungsoo’s petite body onto the grass, next to the gray cement. 

Kyungsoo eyes and lips are closed. His pale, chapped lips has a tint of red trailing from his nose. He watches as his body relaxes and contracts. Chanyeol kisses his forehead, gently placing his head down. 

Kyungsoo is alive. He is hurt but alive, and Chanyeol feels relief. From the corner of his eyes, he sees Jongin getting right back up which makes him fume. 

He stomps to him; his wrath causes him to see red. He clenches onto Jongin plain white shirt. He holds onto it so hard that his balls of knuckles matches it. Jongin holds onto his arms trying to break free but fails. Instead, he feels a sharp pain in his jaw as Chanyeol’s fist collides with it. Jongin’s body flings to the ground from Chanyeol’s might.

“I told you to stay away from Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol, finally, catching his breath from running. “I told you I never wanted to see you again.

Jongin wickedly smiles with deep piercing eyes and an evil mind. He breaks into laughter that echoes into the bleak atmosphere. He slowly gets up, with his hand in his pocket. “I know,” Chanyeol notices Jongin’s hand in his pocket which makes him a bit wary. Jongin continues, “But did you think I’d actually listen to you? You are pathetic, and you don’t deserve him. I do, I had him first.” He spits, and saliva and blood shots out. He sinisterly cracks another cackle. His pulls out six inches of cold steel, while its handle is ivory.

Chanyeol pulls away a little bit at the sight of the knife. “Relax, you don’t want to do—“

“You don’t know what I want. You’ve taken everything from me. I thought we were friends, but you sat here and stole what was mine.” Jongin flings the weapon around his fingers. Watching him losing it immobilizes Chanyeol and he just listen, scared to do anything that could set him off. Jongin continues, “You don’t love Kyungsoo as much as I love him. He was my everything.” As Jongin goes on, his fingers loose grasp of the knife. It flies into the air.

Chanyeol sees Jongin trying to go after it, so he goes after Jongin. He catches Jongin’s body and plummets him to the ground. Jongin wiggles trying to get escape from Chanyeol, but Chanyeol has his body hovering his, trapping him.

Chanyeol looks at his face. His appearance doesn’t match his insides. He is repulsive, he is sick. That fact that Jongin tried to guilt Chanyeol for his actions infuriates him. Chanyeol strikes him in the face. “Listen, I didn’t steal anything from you.” He strikes him again. “Kyungsoo doesn’t belong to you. You’re sick.” He strikes again. “What you’re doing now is not love. What you're doing now is why he left you.” Chanyeol strikes him again, and his time, he doesn’t stop. He keeps punching Jongin until he stops moving. 

Chanyeol relieves a sigh. He thought Kyungsoo was going to die again. Seeing what he walked into sends shivers down his spine, making him sick to his stomach. He swings leg to the side and sees Jongin still not getting up. He doesn’t care if he killed him, he just cares that Kyungsoo is safe.

He can feel a sting on his ankle. It can be from him speeding down the stairs. His eyes glances and sees Kyungsoo starting to move his body. Chanyeol smiles at ease when seeing his round eyes starting to flutter. He gets up and limps towards Kyungsoo. He is happy, things are finally over.

He walks, trying to reach him. He smiles faintly. However, Kyungsoo has a face that reads trepidation. Chanyeol looks at his mouth and listens to the sounds produced from his lips. Kyungsoo yells, “Chanyeol, watch out. Behind yo—“

Chanyeol abruptly feels a sharp sensation on the back of his head. The shock prevents him from feeling anything. The muscles in his jaw tenses as he slowly tumbles on his knees and crouches down in front of Kyungsoo’s eyes, writhing in agony. Jongin, unassailable, drops the rock and pins Chanyeol down with him sitting his stomach. He holds onto the sides of Chanyeol’s head, cupping his ears. “This is our birthday gift, hyung,” making brief but piercing eye contact with Kyungsoo. He precedes to smashing Chanyeol’s head onto the dry, achromatic cement. 

Kyungsoo screams at the sight of Chanyeol’s head bouncing off the ground. Jongin does it again, making Chanyeol’s eyes roll back. Kyungsoo, in pain, uses all the strength he has left to get up. He hastily goes to Jongin, hoping he can push him. Knowing Jongin’s strength, he has no confidence in stopping him. As he rushes over to Jongin, he sees a steel weapon lying on the ground. He scoops it up with his fingers and continues running to Jongin at same rate.

Kyungsoo leaps and pushes Jongin off of Chanyeol. Jongin just laughs at Kyungsoo’s teary face. Jongin utters, “Happy birthday to you and—“ 

His words cut short as Kyungsoo plunges the knife into his chest. Jongin gasps at the abrupt pain entering body. He lays there immobilized, only being able to say his last word. “me.”

Kyungsoo trembles crying with his fingers, not leaving the handle of the knife. “ _Why?_ ” he asks, but Jongin doesn’t say anything.

Kyungsoo looks at Chanyeol motionless body, being one with the ground. He rushes to him, seeing his blood staining the cement. A crimson red puddle forms beneath his head, letting the earth drink it.

Kyungsoo sobs, uncontrollably, at the sight of Chanyeol. His tears are the only thing that keeps him alive in this fumance of pain. He reaches into Chanyeol’s pocket and grabs his cell phone. He tries dialing numbers but his fingers are so frozen that his fingers feel numb. He gets to the last digit and places the phone to his ear. 

It rings for a few seconds, “Hello? 1-1-9, what’s your emergency?”

“Hello? My name is Do— Park Kyungsoo. My husband is unconscious and losing a lot of blood,” he lips trembled as flood of tears gushes down his ashen cheeks. Pain is twitching in his heart, his soul.

“Where are you located?”

“In the back of my complex building. 106-16 Cheongdam-dong, Gangnam-gu, Seoul.”

He hangs up and hugs Chanyeol’s cold body. He cries, hoping for the best to happen. His plump shaped lips gently touches his temples. His forehead graces against his, holding him tightly. 

Time kills them slowly. Time is something everyone make and take, save and spend, keep, waste, kill, and eventually lose. The sound of twigs scraping against the cement makes deafening music in their ears. The touch of wind feels like daggers poking at them. They sit, waiting, for hope to scoop them up and take them somewhere nobody else knows.

—

The cacophony of sirens merges in the air. The sound waves hits Kyungsoo’s ear drum, giving him a headache, stupefies him. He still cannot fathom why this has to happen. If he can reset time, he would take Chanyeol’s place. But, instead, Chanyeol is oozing in blood. He watches him as the paramedics hastily do their best to keep him alive. Kyungsoo feels nauseous throughout the whole ride to the hospital. Trepidation holds him hostage. Along the way, they also attend to Kyungsoo's injuries. They are not severe, thankfully.

The ambulance suddenly stops, and the doors flings open. They pull Chanyeol’s body out of the vehicle and rush him inside. Kyungsoo stays with him every step until the doctors stops him. He has to wait as Chanyeol gets surgery.

Both Jongin and Chanyeol are in the same hospital. Both in critical condition. Both Kyungsoo’s torturer and lover. Kyungsoo stops following them; his fingers tremble. Chanyeol lost so much blood; the doctors tries to help in the best ways they knew how. Kyungsoo watches his unconscious body, hoping for a miracle. An incessant pain twinges in his heart as he looks at Chanyeol vanishing from his sight.

Kyungsoo stays, waiting for hours that feels longer than it needs to be. Time has never felt so dreadful until now. If he had told Chanyeol about Jongin sooner, would things be different? Maybe, things wouldn’t have come this far? What could have happened? Unanswered questions travels through his head. 

Kyungsoo’s heavy eyes glances around the hospital. An hour goes by, ambulances keep arriving with more emergency cases. Doctors swarms, taking more bodies like bees serving their queen, racing to bring her frail body back from the dead. It’s like an endless cycle. Pain and suffering will never end.

He doesn’t go home because going to a forlorn apartment makes him feel worse. A tear tickles his cheek. As brim tears begin to fall, he gnaws at his lip. If he hears him utter anything, he might just lose it. So, he sits on a cold plastic chair, waiting for a light to touch them.

Another hour passes, and Kyungsoo finds him walking up. Nothing changes. He still sees dangling bodies on beds hastily being pushed into double doors, to a world Kyungsoo knows nothing about.

He sits there, getting lost in his thoughts. Suddenly, they are broken by an orotund voice. “Park Kyungsoo?” 

He snaps his head and sees a nurse with a clipboard in her hands. He swiftly goes to her. His heart is pounding as his palms are moist. “Yes? I’m Park Kyungsoo.”

“Ah, your husband’s surgery was successful. They moved him to the ICU. You can go see him now. The doctors will inform you about his condition.”

“Ok, thank you.”

Kyungsoo heads to the ICU, feeling relieved. But simultaneously he feels timorous. What if the doctors tell something equally as bad? What if—no, Chanyeol will fine, he thinks. Kyungsoo is not a dreamer; he just knows things will be alright. In all the hectic things that happened today, Kyungsoo finds out he has another fear. And that is losing Park Chanyeol.

—

Chanyeol has been in a coma for days. Kyungsoo stays with him almost every minute of the day. The pungent smell of disinfect wakes Kyungsoo every morning whereas anguish tucks him in every night. Chanyeol, remains, lying on the white hospital bed, being unaffected by it. Doctors told him although the surgery is successful, it does not erase the damage that is made. He may wake up, he may not wake up. He may live, he may die. Kyungsoo doesn’t even know _if_ Chanyeol will wake up. However, Kyungsoo believes, deep down in his heart of hearts, Chanyeol will be fine.

The room stays quiet until doctors and nurses check up on Chanyeol or Kyungsoo talks to his unconscious body. Occasionally, Kyungsoo goes down memory lane with him.

The first day is Wednesday, January fourteenth. Kyungsoo talks about Chanyeol’s twenty-first birthday. Chanyeol has always been content with the smallest things. Usually, on most birthdays, he spends them alone. Well, once, his older sister had more responsibilities. The first time Kyungsoo met Chanyeol, he refused to celebrate his birthday. He was okay with it just passing like another day. Kyungsoo remembers telling Chanyeol that he’ll turn twenty-one once, so he should celebrate it. Eventually, Chanyeol listens. They had a great day. Ever since then, Chanyeol has made wishes every birthday.

On Thursday, Kyungsoo talks about their premature music days. Chanyeol produces while Kyungsoo sings. In detail, he talks about how perfect and synchronized they were. Chanyeol’s sonorous and dulcet tunes mixed with Kyungsoo’s melodic voice. They harmonize in ways people could never. They always talked about becoming a duo for fun, but that never got to happen. They would write, sing, and laugh. Kyungsoo remembers lots of good times but there were also bad times.

On Friday, Kyungsoo talks about a scar in Chanyeol’s life. Chanyeol’s parents told him they were getting a divorce. Chanyeol isolated himself from everyone including Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo saw the light in his eyes fading everyday. So, Kyungsoo bothered him until no end, until Chanyeol finally _talks_. That night, Chanyeol broke down in a way he never broke down before. He released all of the emotions boiling inside him. He opened him up to someone for the first time, and that person was Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo spends everyday reminiscing their past, hoping Chanyeol may hear something. They spend ten days like this. Today is January twenty-sixth.

Time always seems to go by quickly, but this is the first time Kyungsoo feels that life is put into slow motion. He never appreciates how time actually works until now. Sometimes, he wishes it can pause and rewind just so he can replay the delightful memories. 

Kyungsoo wishes his eyes would just open, and they would talk, they would go far away and never come back. But, of course, Kyungsoo never gets what he wants. As the sun touches the earth, the deafening sound of high but flat pitch fills the atmosphere. The sound Kyungsoo never wanted to hear.

He looks and sees the electroencephalogram display a neon green, flat line. The back of his throat goes dry as a swarm of doctors comes in. They conduct their procedures, trying to revive him. But, there is no use.

“Park Chanyeol, time of death five thirty-six, January twenty-sixth, year two thousand eighteen.”

The tender, sweet sounds from the strumming of the acoustic guitar stops, and the only thing left is the tapping of wet crystals on the windowpane.

—

Kyungsoo has been a mess since Chanyeol died. Everything reminds him of Chanyeol. At his burial, Kyungsoo buries him with his brown burlap journal as it reveals the deepest parts him, parts only Chanyeol is allowed to explore. He tucks a picture they took the morning of Kyungsoo’s birthday inside the book. On the back, it reads, “January 12th, 2018: Happy birthday to Kyungsoo. Breakfast at Chanyeol’s made by Chanyeol.”

He sits in the cafe right across his apartment. The cafe is very minimalist. Beige smooth walls, a brown marbles counter, brown wooden tables, and a few plants and paintings around. Near the bathroom, there’s a small shelf of books. When you enter, a waft of coffee welcomes you. Kyungsoo decides to have his last cup of vanilla-flavored tea before he moves to Japan. At the cafe, there’s a man who works there. From his chestnut brown fluffy hair, his clear eyes, and the lineaments of his face that exquisitely complement each other; he radiates this perception of perfectionism. Kyungsoo knows him. He is his neighbor.

“So, you’re leaving to Japan, huh?”

“Yeah, Junmyeon,” Kyungsoo leaves a tip on the counter. “I just want to go to a place far away from here.”

Junmyeon wipes the counter and picks up the money. Kyungsoo gets ready to head out, never wanting to look back. Before he steps out, Junmyeon speaks, “Park Chanyeol...he was a nice guy when I met him. I never knew he was the Chanyeol you always talked about. If I have known—“

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Kyungsoo fades into the bitter winter breeze and goes to place not even the Grim Reaper can find him.

—

His eyes slowly begins to open as he finds himself in his bed. His head feels like an ax split right into the back of his head. He feels lethargic as his eyes fully open. His finger searches for his phone on the brown dresser. He opens it and sees the date, May second, two thousand nineteen.

He looks through the internet and reads the headlines of articles released in January. “Today is the Birthday of Late Do Kyungsoo, Previously Referred as Artist K.” Nothing has changed. He sighs in despair, feeling like his heart cracked. Possibly, Chanyeol dreamed everything. Everything felt so real though.

Chanyeol gets up and begins his usual morning. He has his black tea in a porcelain cup and watches jubilant people taking advantage of the warm yet breezy temperature. He watches as the wind gently flicks the viridescent leaves. He looks away and places the brown burlap book in his hands and tries reading it again. 

He opens it and, to his surprise, finds a picture of him and Kyungsoo. He remembers these clothes and taking these pictures. However, he doesn’t recall if it actually happened. He flips the back of it and in black gel ink, it reads “January 12th, 2018: Happy birthday to Kyungsoo. Breakfast at Chanyeol’s made by Chanyeol.”

The strumming of the acoustic guitar and melodic voice that blends with it dissipates into the air, becoming the wind that blows.

**Fin**

**Author's Note: This is my first time writing smut. I tried my best so go easy on me, please. Chansoo is one of my favorite ships but angst is also my favorite genre. I'm sorry that I demonized Jongin like this. I love him so much, forgive me ;-;. Also, thank you for reading!**


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